Chapter 21: The Vow

Cal's POV

Bridget read the card a third time and set it down on the counter very gently.

"Five years," she said.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Don't ma'am me, I said."

"Yes, Bridget."

"Why didn't you say it?"

"Because Walter asked me to look after her, and I thought wanting her was the opposite."

She waited.

I made myself keep my eyes on hers.

"I ran," I said. "I ran to Alaska, and I stayed gone until he was dying. I'm not going to run again."

"Say that to her."

I turned to Clarissa.

She stood by the fridge in my flannel shirt with her arms crossed and her bare feet on the tile.

She was not helping me, and I loved her for it.

"I'm not going to run again," I said. "Not to Alaska, not to the garage, not to a double shift."

"I know," she said.

"I'm saying it so you can hold me to it."

"I'll hold you to it, Cal."

Bridget picked up her bag.

"Get your jackets," she said. "Both of you. I want to see Walter."

The cemetery sat on the hill above the lake, behind a low stone wall.

It was cold, and the maples had dropped most of their leaves on the grass.

Walter's stone was plain grey granite with a small carved fish at the corner, because he had insisted.

Bridget stood at the foot of it with her hands in her pockets, and Clarissa stood next to her.

I stood a little apart.

"Well," Bridget said to the stone. "Look who finally told the truth."

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